


Four Birthdays

by Lieju



Category: Spirou et Fantasio
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:41:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lieju/pseuds/Lieju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four of Zantafio's birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Birthdays

 

 

"So, you know what day today is, right?"

 

The 12-year old boy looked up from their game of chess to answer his cousin.

"Saturday."

 

Zantafio sat straight which gave him even greater height advantage. All the better to look down on the blond. "I guess a little kid like you still needs his mom to take care of that stuff."

 

That got the reaction Zantafio had known it would. His cousin pouted. "I don't need my mom for stuff."

 

"It's my birthday," Zantafio told him.

 

"Huh? Really? Did you have a party or something?"

 

"I'm going to do something with some guys I know, you know, from around. The kind of stuff where you need to be this high," he gestured with his hand, "to play. And errant hairs sticking out won't count."

 

"Yeah, I guess." Fantasio grinned, moving his bishop. "But I'm not gonna let you win just because it's your birthday."

 

"I'm not going to need that!"

 

* * *

 

 

Zantafio slouched back in the only even remotely comfortable chair in his flat.

 

The one-room apartment was mostly empty, with a bed and few boxes holding the few possessions he had with him at the moment. It looked barely lived-in, definitely not like a home.

 

Apart from maybe his well-maintained closet with its rows of suits and other clothing.

 

It always paid to take care of your appearance.

 

Even when you were stuck in a dump like this.

 

Zantafio had been laying low for a few months, after a scheme had gone south and he had been lucky to escape with his life, but today he was feeling oddly restless.

 

There was something he had forgotten...

 

It wasn't before he saw the date on the newspaper that it clicked.

 

It was his birthday.

 

Not the date he had on his passport, but his actual birthday. Not that it mattered, he hadn't celebrated it in years.

 

But why not treat himself a bit?

 

He was starting to run out of money, and it wasn't like he was above simple thievery.

When necessary, of course.

 

And so he sat back to his chair some hours later, turning a beautiful diamond in his hand. Not something he could easily turn into cash, or even wear, but it was fine to pamper himself every now and then.

 

But it felt empty somehow.

 

Unsatisfying.

 

* * *

 

 

Zantafio skimmed through the paper, trying to pass the time.

 

And he was surprised to notice it was his birthday.

A coincidence, to be sure, he hadn't been thinking of his birthday when he had decided the date for when it all would go down.

 

This had been a long con, but nevertheless just something to occupy his time, and of course get rid of the criminals who had been given him so much trouble.

 

He had played the two criminal organizations against each other, and convinced both that the other was planning to move into their turf.

 

It had been tricky, he had to have been careful, since he was well-known and a persona non grata in those circles, and had been hiding under more than one false identity.

 

But today it would all pay off, when he would hijack the boat with the shipment of diamonds, framing the other organization for it.

 

And then he'd just disappear few millions richer, and watch the fireworks when the two gangs went to open war.

 

The best case scenario was they'd destroy each other, but at the very least it would give them something better to focus on than a certain past business partner who owed them money and might have backstabbed them in the past.

 

Maybe it would even leave a power-vacuum in the criminal underworld, ready to be filled...

 

Yes, this would open up some nice new opportunities.

 

 

...

 

Zantafio cursed, running on the wet deck.

 

It was raining. Of course it was raining.

Because _those two_ showing up couldn't possibly be enough!

 

He stopped, slightly disoriented.

 

The ship seemed too quiet. It was a cargo ship, too big to be operated by just one or two people, so he had brought three hired hands with him. In addition, there should have been at least some of the actual crew on board. He had been planning to get rid of them but hadn't had the time.

 

And then of course the meddlesome bellboy and his dear cousin were now on the ship as well...

 

And he had no idea where they were, exactly.

He ducked behind a crate, pulling his gun out.

 

He had been surprised by the two meddlers, and managed to get out from the ship's control room where he had been ambushed, leaving his hired help to deal with the pests. But he knew not to underestimate the two, the petty criminals he had brought with him would be probably captured or unconscious by now.

 

Well, at least he wouldn't have to pay them.

 

He could see a vague form in the rain and shot at it.

 

The figure disappeared somewhere behind a wall.

"Zantafio! Freeze! You can't get away!"

 

So, Spirou then. Didn't sound like he was in pain, so he hadn't hit him.

 

A shame.

 

And now he was wisely staying out of his sight. But where was Fantasio? He glanced around, suspicious.

 

Maybe if he tried to aggravate them enough for them to answer he'd be certain where they were?

And maybe even push that little red head into his sights...

 

"You have no idea what you're doing, do you?"

 

"We know you're involved."

Spirou again.

 

"You think you're doing good here? I'm the good guy in this! Had you two not interfered, the two biggest criminal organizations in this country would have wiped each other out! I bet you're here because of them, they're playing you!"

 

"I'm sure you're working out of the good of your heart. I guess we just have to find another way to deal with this than a bloody gang-war!"

 

Something moved, and Zantafio shot at it.

 

Silence.

 

But he couldn't assume he had got him...

 

And they knew _his_ position, while he still had no idea where Fantasio was.

 

He had to move.

 

Zantafio moved slowly, keeping his eye on where he had seen Spirou. He slipped between the crates.

 

And came face-to-face with Fantasio.

 

Luckily for him the blond was surprised as well, and so wasn't ready for the kick aimed at him.

 

But the dark-haired cousin slipped, the wet deck slippery under his feet, and fell down.

 

And Zantafio found a gun aimed at him, his own weapon slipped through his fingers.

He stared at his cousin.

 

Fantasio wouldn't shoot unless he had to. But without a weapon of his own...

But maybe he could push him over the railing, Fantasio was close to it.

 

He had to get his guard down.

 

"Fanta, really? Pointing a gun at your dear cousin? Today, of all-"

 

Suddenly, the ship lurched, and both men were sent tumbling down.

 

And before Zantafio knew what had hit him he slid over the edge, managing to get hold of it just before falling into the sea.

 

He couldn't see Fantasio anywhere, but since he had been closer to the edge, he must have been swept overboard already.

 

However, he was quickly proven wrong, when a hand from above grabbed his wrist, and the familiar face came to view.

"Do you honestly think I'd let you win just because it's your birthday!?"

 

He had remembered?

 

Zantafio could feel his hands slipping. He glanced down. He was fairly certain he could survive the fall, and they were close to shore. Not that he was looking forward to the trip to the sea that was cold even in July, and with all the rain the chances he'd drown before finding shore were slim but still a real possibility.

 

But when the face of Spirou came to view, he made his decision.

 

"I don't need you  _letting_ me win."

 

And he let go, before the bellhop could get a hold of him too. Surprised Fantasio almost fell in with him before letting go of his wrist.

 

And Zantafio fell.

 

 

* * *

 

 

"There's a visitor for you."

 

Zantafio followed the prison guard.

 

However, it was a surprise who the visitor was.

 

He did his best, trying not to show it, but he hadn't been expecting Fantasio.

He hadn't seen his cousin for a while, a year maybe?

 

And he had been jailed for a month now, so why'd he come see him _now?_

 

Zantafio sat down and took the phone. "Well now, this is a surprise."

 

Fantasio nodded on the other side of the glass. "Hi."

 

"I don't know what you are doing here. Gloating? Considering you had nothing to do with my capture, I don't think you have much to be proud of."

 

"I just... It doesn't matter. I just wanted to see if the law really finally caught up with you,” Fantasio told him,his expression unreadable.

 

"Hmph."

It had been ironic, how the reason he had been caught wasn't because of some grand scheme gone south, or his cousin or the bellboy catching him and dragging him to the police bound and gagged after some climatic battle.

 

No, it had been a routine inspection when he had crossed the border.

 

It really would have paid to spend more money on his passport.

It had been recognized as a fake, and it hadn't taken long for them to detain him and figure out his identity and just how much Interpol wanted to have a little talk with him.

 

As well as at least four other parties.

 

Well, he wouldn't be in here for long.

 

He might have been down on his luck again, but he still had something several governments and organizations wanted.

 

Information.

 

He was already in talks with the secret service of this country, he'd be walking out here soon.

 

Fantasio looked like he didn't know what to say.

 

Annoyed, Zantafio told him, "So, you're seen me, happy now?"

He didn't wait for an answer, setting the phone down and standing up.

 

He had just turned his back on his cousin when he remembered.

 

It was his birthday.

 

Zantafio almost stopped, but gestured to the prison guard who came to escort him back to his cell.

 

And when he walked away he had no regrets.

 

This would not be his last birthday, after all.

 


End file.
